William Wyler directed the Henry James adaptation of the short story, "Washington Square" with musical score by Aaron Copeland and starring Oliva de Havilland as Catherine Sloper, Ralph Richardson, Dr. Sloper her father, Montgomery Clift, the fortune hunter Morris Townsend, and Mirriam Hopkins, Aunt Livenia. Set in mid-century New York, it is a character study of Catherine, a guileless, plain, dull, and enormously wealthy only daughter of Dr. Slocum, a widower. Catherine has been raised without a mother, who in Dr. Slocum's memory was perfection. Unlike her mother however, Catherine is an embarrassment as she is sans social graces, and incapable of achieving a respectable marriage to any man of her social class and wealth. Her only talent according to Dr. Slocum is she "embrodiers neatly." Meeting the handsome Morris Townsend at a family affair, Catherine is enchanted with the smooth, attentive, and socially clever but penniless young man. He is too good to be true and they quickly initiate a whirlwind courtship that culminates in Dr. Slocum refusing to allow Catherine to marry Morris, and taking her to Europe to forget him.
On their return, Catherine secretly meets Townsend who has been charming Aunt Livenia in the Slocum house while the family was abroad, and she facilitates the couple's secret rendezvous and plans to elope without the consent of Dr. Slocum. Threatening to disinherit Catherine from her enormous fortune on his death, Slocum cruelly informs his innocent daughter that her intended is only marrying her for her money for she has nothing else to offer any man. The truth of her father's disdain and the opportunity to break away from him by carrying out a secret elopement the night of their return from Europe spurs Catherine to agree to Morris' plans. Blindly, she informs Morris that her father will cut her off with only a third of the expected amount of her inheritance, but they will live on love and she will make him a devoted, faithful, and comfortable home. At this news and unaware to Catherine, Morris promises to return at midnight but instead deserts her. Leaving her waiting for him in the parlor, the wizened Catherine is shattered, bereft, but with her respectability intact. The resolution of Morris' actions and Catherine's newly found mature "voice" takes on the true Henry James twist with the finest third act of the film left for the return of Morris to Catherine's parlor.
Wyler uses the manners and architecture of the 19th century upper class parlor to the full extent through the formal interior settings, panel doors, furniture, and expectations of the kinds of infringements that Morris has enacted on Catherine in subtle ways. When he leaves his gloves on the front hall table, Dr. Slocum is aware of Townsend's intention to move in to his home over his objections through courtship of Catherine. Later, Morris leaves an empty brandy cordial, cigar wrapper, and use of the private library of Dr. Slocum's home during the family's absence, an act that was akin to dogs scent marking their territory. Instead of taking his leave from a serious father/daughter discussion between Dr. Slocum and Catherine over the objections to Morris' proposal for Catherine's hand, Townsend manipulates Catherine's unwitting interjections on his behalf to her father, and allows a woman to fight his battle instead of doing the manly and correct thing.
Catherine, unaware of these signs and their meanings until her abandonment, stages her own revenge on the duplicitous, greedy suitor presenting him with his wedding gift that she's kept over the many years, and then orders the door bolted, closing the heavy brocade parlor drapes, and turning off the lights at Morris' second elopement scheme. As a lamp's light marks her movements up the staircase through a transom window and to the intimate family bedrooms upstairs, Morris is shut out from Catherine's heart, money, and the house he'd brazenly announced to Aunt Penniman was his "home." It is a masterful scene that is one of the most chilling in film history.
Oliva de Havilland won an Oscar for this performance which is matched by the exceptional performances of Ralph Richardson, Montgomery Clift and score of Aaron Copeland. Subtle, nuanced, and deliberate, de Havilland changes on screen from plain Jane to mature, confident and attractive simply through her voice, hair, and posture. It is a gesture that did not rely on gaining weight and shedding it for the role, nor allowing herself to don prosthetics which today's actresses rely. Instead, de Havilland's tenor of voice is audibly heard to deepen and lower signaling her new maturity in one scene between Catherine and Morris as they plan their forbidden elopement. Miss it, and you will have overlooked one of the most subtle acting performances captured on film. Worth viewing and an excellent addition to classic collections of great films, Wyler's The Heiress is a significant film to announce the entrance of the post-War American woman to film audiences.
On their return, Catherine secretly meets Townsend who has been charming Aunt Livenia in the Slocum house while the family was abroad, and she facilitates the couple's secret rendezvous and plans to elope without the consent of Dr. Slocum. Threatening to disinherit Catherine from her enormous fortune on his death, Slocum cruelly informs his innocent daughter that her intended is only marrying her for her money for she has nothing else to offer any man. The truth of her father's disdain and the opportunity to break away from him by carrying out a secret elopement the night of their return from Europe spurs Catherine to agree to Morris' plans. Blindly, she informs Morris that her father will cut her off with only a third of the expected amount of her inheritance, but they will live on love and she will make him a devoted, faithful, and comfortable home. At this news and unaware to Catherine, Morris promises to return at midnight but instead deserts her. Leaving her waiting for him in the parlor, the wizened Catherine is shattered, bereft, but with her respectability intact. The resolution of Morris' actions and Catherine's newly found mature "voice" takes on the true Henry James twist with the finest third act of the film left for the return of Morris to Catherine's parlor.
Wyler uses the manners and architecture of the 19th century upper class parlor to the full extent through the formal interior settings, panel doors, furniture, and expectations of the kinds of infringements that Morris has enacted on Catherine in subtle ways. When he leaves his gloves on the front hall table, Dr. Slocum is aware of Townsend's intention to move in to his home over his objections through courtship of Catherine. Later, Morris leaves an empty brandy cordial, cigar wrapper, and use of the private library of Dr. Slocum's home during the family's absence, an act that was akin to dogs scent marking their territory. Instead of taking his leave from a serious father/daughter discussion between Dr. Slocum and Catherine over the objections to Morris' proposal for Catherine's hand, Townsend manipulates Catherine's unwitting interjections on his behalf to her father, and allows a woman to fight his battle instead of doing the manly and correct thing.
Catherine, unaware of these signs and their meanings until her abandonment, stages her own revenge on the duplicitous, greedy suitor presenting him with his wedding gift that she's kept over the many years, and then orders the door bolted, closing the heavy brocade parlor drapes, and turning off the lights at Morris' second elopement scheme. As a lamp's light marks her movements up the staircase through a transom window and to the intimate family bedrooms upstairs, Morris is shut out from Catherine's heart, money, and the house he'd brazenly announced to Aunt Penniman was his "home." It is a masterful scene that is one of the most chilling in film history.
Oliva de Havilland won an Oscar for this performance which is matched by the exceptional performances of Ralph Richardson, Montgomery Clift and score of Aaron Copeland. Subtle, nuanced, and deliberate, de Havilland changes on screen from plain Jane to mature, confident and attractive simply through her voice, hair, and posture. It is a gesture that did not rely on gaining weight and shedding it for the role, nor allowing herself to don prosthetics which today's actresses rely. Instead, de Havilland's tenor of voice is audibly heard to deepen and lower signaling her new maturity in one scene between Catherine and Morris as they plan their forbidden elopement. Miss it, and you will have overlooked one of the most subtle acting performances captured on film. Worth viewing and an excellent addition to classic collections of great films, Wyler's The Heiress is a significant film to announce the entrance of the post-War American woman to film audiences.